


Erase The Name

by Nothing_Sorrow



Category: Death Note
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-07
Updated: 2011-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-21 03:17:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nothing_Sorrow/pseuds/Nothing_Sorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some assignments are just difficult, and others cause you to pause. When you are asked to track down and eliminate an acquaintance your priorities have to be straight. Massive AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Erase the name. Strip away the identity. Offer intellectual stimulation in place of any emotional support and family stability. Add to that volatile mixture fragile minds. Minds damaged and made defective by circumstance beyond their youthful comprehension. Broken and many times unable to be fixed.

Shake well.

Let loose upon an unsuspecting world.

The perfect little detectives. Cultivated for their minds, led down a path heedless of their true desires and hopes and dreams for the future.

A recipe for disaster?

Perhaps.

That is if one were honored to have knowledge of and examine closely the cases of A and B. Two letters, the first two of the English alphabet. Yet in this game not first, that distinction alone belonged to L.

A, more known for his suicide than anything that he may have accomplished in his short life. Really I think that was the only thing he ever did accomplish.

B, or B.B. If one wanted to be technical and anal as to the actual code. They claim, as well as he did that it stood for Beyond Birthday. The reality, at least according to me and few of my peers, is that it was also short for Backup Bitch. After all, that is what we all were...backups.

Should the original break or become lost we were to be the cookie cutter replacements.

F

K

M

N

Sure they all stood for something, but regardless of how it was dressed up we knew we were inferior. Second rate hacks when compared to the great and oft times deified L.

But, L was long dead now. A corpse rotting in an anonymous grave. The victim of the mass murderer known as Kira. Near had long since taken his spot, quickly proving that he was the rightful successor to the title.

By age fourteen the pale haired genius had put a stop to Kira's reign of terror. Not that the rest of the world was ever made aware of this. That day in an abandoned warehouse surrounded by members of the Japanese task force and SPK, the boy became a man. And the world only knew the letter N and L was soon forgotten.

I was once a successor to the title. The coveted letter that so many fought for.

Now I am merely the one who cleans house. Still heir, but I now have other obligations thrown in.

N brings the world the justice it seeks, while I on the other hand soil my hands not only with those who are beyond his jurisdiction but I also made tidy any mess that may have once come from Wammy's.

The Old English M embossed on the other wise nondescript manila folder, the assignment was simple.

Damage control. Dead or alive, deliver the individual named within.

Mihael Keehl, at one time ranked behind Near in the line of succession, now just the latest failure gone rogue.


	2. Chapter 2

Two days had passed since last contact. A gut wrenching fear gnawed at the elderly mans being. Some might call it extra sensory perception or by some other pseudo science new age term that was in vogue. Roger, however, knew that it was merely an instinctual reaction resulting from prior experience. Would Matt, a brilliant detective turn down and pass the case to another, one with less experience so that his one time acquaintance would have a chance?

Three of his prior wards, dead. In just the past five weeks working this case alone. No tears. No guilt. Two young men and a female, who though it might be questionable as to if sound of mind, there had been no doubts as to their capacity to work this case. Methodologies as different as night and day, yet minds as sharp and quick to analyze that any comparison between them was impossible. All three fell quickly, their failures and his own thrown into his face as he had glanced over the crime scene photos.

X, better known as Xaphan, his code name chosen after the fabled fallen angel. Partially dismembered and left to decompose in an abandoned house that once served as a whore house for the syndicate that M ran with.

S, or Slate, tortured to death. His bloated and discolored corpse found floating. The multiple burns, cuts and broken bones a testament to the horrifying final hours of his short life. He was the youngest of the three, having just celebrated his eighteenth birthday a couple months prior.

The third had been V, also known as Veronica. Twenty years old, cautious and highly attractive. Her soft brown eyes and delicate features lending her an innocent quality that the board thought would help her to succeed where the others failed. Her body had been found with a single bullet hole to the forehead. Post-mortem examination had proved that was the only injury she had received, and that although stripped of her clothes and left to rot in a trash filled alley, she had suffered no sexual assault.

That offered some comfort. At least he wasn't that far gone, Roger had thought to himself. He had after all shown the female some margin of dignity and had handed her what the old man could only hope was a swift death.

Roger jumped, the shrill sound of the telephone ringing startling him from his thoughts.

Clearing his throat, his tone was formal "Hello, Roger Ruvie"

"I'll take it." The words were followed by the unmistakable sound of smoke being inhaled.

"Good, I'll have one of Near's-" He was cut off as Matt abruptly hung up the phone.

As he replaced the hand set back on its cradle he sighed, muttering a silent prayer. He couldn't lose this one, he was ranked far too high and right now a direct successor to the one who currently held the title of L. Yet as valuable as he was, his expertise and dedication said he could possibly be the one to get this done, and that alone made it worth the gamble.

Across the Atlantic, Matt tossed his cell onto the table. Taking another drag of his cigarette as he waited for his laptop to boot. He mentally went over the items and resources he would be needing to get the job done.

He quickly fired off an email to Near. Curt and to the point detailing some of his needs, and then opening another browser tab he booked a single ticket to L.A.

Twenty minutes later as he was replacing his laptop into a padded case for travel his cell rang, glancing at the display he laughed. That was fast.

"Speak to me Hal." He said answering it as he walked into his bedroom to pack some belongings.

"I assume that you booked a flight for tonight."

He grunted his response, eliciting soft laughter from her.

"Ever the dutiful one." She said, "I'll meet with you tomorrow afternoon. Expect a text from me in the morning with the location and exact time. Near said that if there is anything else that you may require, do not hesitate to ask."

"Does the offer include hookers and coke?" He snorted, tossing some underwear into his duffel bag.

Halle clucked her tongue disapprovingly.

"I take that as a no. Fuck me."

Halle roared with laughter "Now, Matt that is no way to speak to a lady." She paused, and when she spoke again all trace of kidding was gone.

"Seriously Matt, take care of yourself. We can't afford to lose you."

"Yeah what ever, I'm hanging up now. Later."

Matt placed his phone into his carry on, and shouldering his bags left. He had three hours until his flight, plenty of time to stop off and grab something to eat first


	3. Chapter 3

Mello studied the ornate rosary, fingers tracing over the small metal of the savior crucified, his arms outstretched, nails driven through hands and ankles. He had died in agony, paying the price for man's sins so that they may be forgiven and enter into his father's kingdom.

He had come into possession of it quite recently, a "gift" from a former Wammy's House alumni that had been sent to bring him in. For all the education bestowed and bravado they had displayed, she had been reduced to a blubbering mess, sobbing and pleading as the cool barrel of his gun had rested against her forehead.

The blond snorted, what a crock of shit religion was he thought. God had not answered her cries, Mello had pulled the trigger not showing her any mercy. Wammy's got a corpse, he got a new piece of jewelry, not a bad trade. Allowing the cross to settle back against his bared chest, he sat up, the burgundy sheet that had been covering him pooling at his waist as he retrieved a half empty beer bottle from the nightstand. After taking a swig he offered the rest to his companion, accepting the half smoked cigarette she offered him in exchange.

"You seem high-strung tonight." She said, her black lined gray eyes flitting over his toned body, before settling a hand against his lower abdomen. "Do you wanna talk?"

He eyed her for a few moments, wondering if he should voice his concern about the desperation with which a certain institution seemed to have in regards to his capture. An institution that had incalculable wealth and resources that may make that desire a reality. He shivered involuntary as her hand moved lower, leaning back against the head board, eyes sliding closed as her hand circled him.

"No." He breathed out, hips arching into her touch.

Although he couldn't see her, she nodded her head in understanding. She had been around long enough to know when things needed to be left alone. She tossed the now empty bottle to the ground, and leaning over placed a soft kiss to his navel.

"Would a blow job fix it?" She whispered against sweat slicked skin, tongue tracing a wet trail lower.

Mello shrugged, "Wouldn't hurt." he chuckled.

Fingers threading through plum colored hair guided that expert mouth of hers lower. Her lips replaced hand, working him slowly, teasing the sensitive underside with her tongue.

He had acquired her two years ago from a business associate who had owed him money. A few years younger than himself, wise to the world and the way things worked. With her looks not yet ravaged by the life and drugs, she had be a good acquisition. They had come to a mutual understanding soon as ownership had been passed onto him. She was to exclusively share his bed, a private whore who would serve him without question or complaint and in return he would grant some small semblance of freedom. Her choices limited, the only other option being that he turned her back to the sex trade, pimping her out filthy perverted old men, she had chosen his bed without a second to linger upon the possible repercussions. He had christened her Skye due to the blueish shade of her hair during their first meeting, never caring to actually learn her real name, he never asked she never offered.

He watched her through half slitted eyes as she worked him, and in spite of the fact he had gotten off earlier he was soon hard, a familiar knot beginning to form in his abdomen as she took more of him in between black painted lips. His hand traveled to her back, rubbing small circles as he felt the pressure building.

"yeah, suck me" He moaned softly, licking his dry lips.

She hummed around him, the vibration sending jolts of pleasure through him, blunt black nails biting into her shoulder as his muscles tightened, a soft growl escaping him as he emptied his seed into her mouth. She pulled away, her tongue licking his seed from her lips as she shifted, resting her head against his chest.

"Paul was behind the theft." She yawned, fingers tracing lazy patterns along his thighs.

He cursed, "Fuck. Is Rod aware?" A week ago a large shipment of narcotics had turned up missing, and the Rod had launched an informal investigation into who had been responsible for its disappearance.

"I don't think so."

"Fuck." His hands rubbed at his face."Are you sure?"

"Yeah, pretty sure. I was gonna tell you when you came back but-"

She didn't need to finish. He already knew the reason for her remaining silent, he had come back in a violent mood, some nameless underling having incurred his wrath due to lack of competence and a loose tongue. He had vented on her flesh, ripping her clothes as he had unceremoniously stripped her and fucked her.

"I better go inform him then." He stood up, bending to retrieve his leather pants and pulling them on.

He glanced over his shoulder, taking in her nude form. The bite marks on her small breasts, bruises that were starting to darken on her hips where he had held her down before, his semen from their earlier tryst drying and starting to flake on her thighs.

"Take a shower, I'll be back."

She watched him retreat, sighing as she extracted her legs from where they tangled in the sheets and slowly made her way to the bathroom, pausing to fetch another beer from the refrigerator.


	4. Chapter 4

Matt sipped his coffee, the bitter taste making him wish that Halle had picked something other than this fucking dive which barely passed as a coffee house for their meeting. Damn place was also non smoking, than again the majority of places now a days were, hell pretty soon the whole world would probably have garish "No Smoking" signs.

He had removed his goggles upon entering the establishment, the dim lighting already made it difficult to see, no need for tinted lenses to add to it. From the corner of his eye he caught two young girls eying him up, giggling and blushing behind hands as they spoke in hush tones. He was just about to turn and ask them to join him when he caught sight of Halle walking through the door.

She had ditched her usual business attire of neatly pressed slacks and shirts for something more comfortable and practical given the circumstances. The tight low rise denim of her jeans and plain red t-shirt clung to her curves, Matt gave a low whistle of approval as she took a seat across the table from him, ignoring the look of warning she gave him in response.

"Hello Matt, been awhile huh?"

Matt shrugged, tapping his lighter off the scratched table as he fought to bring his current urge for nicotine under control.

"Still smoking I see." She said, nodding towards his hand.

"So are you, Hal." He winked, grimacing as the toe of her tennis shoe connected with his shin.

A slight redness crept into her cheeks, her eyes darkening in anger. He mumbled a half-hearted apology after which she cleared her throat and she retrieved a set of keys from her pocket. Handing them to him, his thumb brushed against the side of her hand before palming the item.

"I see you haven't changed, still cocky as ever."

"And you are still the ice bitch I see." Another kick was delivered to his shin.

Halle ran her fingers through her hair in frustration as she spoke.

"I am not thrilled to be here either, but can we at least be civil." She paused, watching him roll his eyes. "Car is around the corner, full tank. Red Mustang. Can't miss it. The other key is to the apartment where you will be staying."

He nodded, pocketing the keys into his vest. Eyes traveling over to where the girls were packing up their things in preparation of leaving. He could still slip his number, tell them to give him a call later and meet up. Two innocent girls like that, no problem. Five minutes tops and he could have them both begging him to fuck them.

"Are you even listening to me. God, I told Near it was a bad idea to bring you in."

"Huh? Oh sorry. Had a little bit of a hormonal moment there."

"Yeah well get that dick of yours under control, you are gonna need to be alert." Her features softened a little "The rest of what you requested is in the apartment,if you need anything, call."

He nodded, finishing off the last of the coffee before rising. Offering a wave over his shoulder he left, Halle sat there for a few more moments musing over the situation. It had been six months since they had last been together, enough time she thought. Perhaps not though, the guarded way with which he behaved indicated that this was gonna be a hellish partnership. She just prayed that he wouldn't be needing too much of her assistance.

Matt went through the various bags that were awaiting him back at the apartment. He had found the place with little difficulty, swearing under his breath when he first took in the dilapidated conditions. He would be lucky if the fucking hell hole even had lukewarm water to offer.

Counting the ammo clips, he pocket an extra clip for the Beretta 92 that he pulled aside earlier. Lighting a cigarette he surveyed his surroundings in detail. It would do, for now. The yellowed, peeling wallpaper stained with water marks, the threadbare couch that had seen better days and discolored with god knows what. Add in the filthy torn carpet to give vision to a poor mans apartment, a poor man desperate for survival who would stoop to even criminal levels.

Exhaling, he pulled the file onto his lap, rereading the exploits of his current target, trying to get a feel for the man and to push away the memories of the loud mouthed hellion of a boy he had once been.


	5. Chapter 5

Paul screamed. A blood curdling scream that echoed off the walls of the make shift interrogation room. He was tied to a chair, two underlings helping to keep it upright as he struggled against the rope binds. At his feet a pair bloodied pliers lay discarded, two fingers laying a few inches away.

"I asked, do you still have the product?"

Mello stood in front of him, a knife in one hand, ear in the other, which he quickly tossed away. His blue eyes blazing with disgust he wiped the blade clean on a rag, gaze flickering to the nasty gashes that ran down Paul's face and chest.

"Next time I have to ask, I slice lower." he threatened, brow quirked as his gaze traveled to other man's crotch.

"Yes." He spat, blood bubbling from a split lip as he spoke.

Mello patted him on the head. "Good. Now tell me you have all of it."

Paul sobbed, chest heaving as he tried to speak. "Fuck. Fuck"

Mello pounced on him, blade pressed against his throat. "Do. You. Have. All. Of. It?"

Paul shook his head, eyes closing as he pleaded sloppily "Can pay for it. Please." His breath catches in his throat and then rattles out along with a dribble of spit mixed with blood.

The blond placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning down to whisper close to his still intact ear. "Okay, okay. Just tell me where the rest is."

The man nodded slowly, informing him in a low gasping voice where he had stashed it. Mello flipped out his phone, relaying the information. "Yeah, call me when its in your possession."

Returning the phone to his back pocket he motioned for the other two to leave them. As the heavy door slammed behind them, Mello shrugged off the leather jacket, tossing it over the back of a broken chair as he talked.

"Who did you sell to?"

"Gjergj. Gjergj Vata."

"The Albanian? Hmm, I thought he only dealt in the flesh trade. Interesting." Mello circled around him slowly, pausing to rest a hand on his shoulder.

"Personal usage or was he planning on spreading the goods?"

"F-f-fuck if I know. He bought two kilos."

"That is not personal usage, dick head." He growled, "Any thing else he said he was looking to dabble in?"

"No-no. He said shit - just the drugs."

Mello leaned over his shoulder, knife traveling to Paul's crotch as he spoke. "Are you lying?"

Paul sobbed, spit and blood trailing down his chin as struggled. "Swear that was all he wanted."

His phone rang, walking away he answered it. "Speak" He said curtly. He remained silent, never exchanging words with the caller, just listening. Hanging up, he smirked.

"Ever have pussy, Paul?" He asked, almost casually now as Mello leaned against the arm of the chair Paul was chained to. He smiled as the other just nodded his head, and flicked away some blood that was slowly working it's way down Paul's cheek.

"You ever see the piece of ass I get a go at? Skye, sweet little thing. Few years younger than I?" Another nod of his head.

"Ya know, I could be getting laid right now. Getting my rocks off in that tight sweet pussy of hers." he removed his gun from the back of pants, setting it on the table that had been pushed to one corner "But nooo, instead I have to be here. Interrogating a piece of shit fucker like you."

Mello leaned in close, "You ever wonder what it would be like to have that puny dick of yours buried in her? Her legs wrapped around your waist as she moans like some common harlot for more?"

Paul nodded again, slower this time, pausing in the action as he felt the tip of the knife against his stomach then drawing slowly upwards. "So you have fantasied about my whore? Tell me Paul, how long have you been running with us?"

"Two years... Please...no!" A strangled scream as the knife dug into his flesh, Mello leaned closer, pressing harder on the hilt.

"Long enough to know that I don't share, not even whores." His voice as close as a lovers. Cupping his hand behind Paul's head, he yanks his head backwards, hard. He shifts his grip on the blade and his face contorts into an ugly sneer of rage. He thrusts repeatedly into the side of the chest, blade grating against ribs, blood soaking them both. With a final thrust and twist of the blade, the body shudders one last time with frothy mixture of spit and blood spat into the blonds face with his last breath.

Skye spent the majority of afternoon and evening lounging on the couch reading, feet propped on a coffee table that had seen better days. She was still in Mello's private quarters, when he had returned late last night for his boots and jacket having asked her wait for him here. The room was sparse, but still functional and comfortable with its furnishings.

Mello's rank had assured that he was taken care of, the size of the room being large enough to fit not only a queen sized bed, single dresser and small refrigerator, but also a small beat up couch and coffee table. The private bathroom was an added bonus, and allowed the luxury of a quick warm shower after a sloppy fuck.

She looked up as the door banged open, Mello throwing his jacket down beside her as he slid the dead bolt in place, locking it. Dried blood was streaked in his hair, crimson smears along his face showed evidence of prior washing while flakes of it speckled his arms and neck.

"Here" he said, depositing a bottle of vodka and fishing out a small packet of white power and tossing it onto the table beside it before moving into the bathroom to clean up.

"Pay day?" She asked, dumping some of the contents of the packet onto the table, separating the powder into thin lines with a razor blade.

The creaking sound of pipes coming to life as the shower was turned on. After a quick shower he joined her on the floor in front of the table, towel wrapped around his waist. His eyes traveled the length of her body, admiring the fact that she was only dressed only in a pair of lace back panties and a red tank, the black lace trim of a matching bra peeking from the neck line.

"Thank you." He grinned, accepting the straw from her extended hand and bent over. After snorting a line he reclined back, hand fishing through the inner pocket of his jacket producing a baggie of assorted pills.

"Gonna be a good night, babe. Got a bonus and Rod gave me the weekend off." He winked, opening the baggie and dividing up the pills into piles next the coke. Taking a pale blue tablet and placing it on the tip of his tongue he leaned over, kissing her as he transferred the pill to her mouth, tongues tangling as he pushed her back, fingers slipping beneath the elastic of her panties.


	6. Chapter 6

"Well, well. You have been quite the busy little shit Mihael." Matt whistled, closing the file and pushing it aside.

Mello, he thought, a lad of only nineteen and he already had quite an impressive criminal record. So to speak. It seemed to run the gamut from theft, to being suspected of dipping his fingers into the arms and drug trade to possible torture and murder.

It seemed as if his role was a dual one if the file was correct. Part time trusted adviser, both mastermind and overseer of operations under crime boss Rod Ross, while also acting as a de facto enforcer. A ruthless hired gun that took out the trash for the organization.

His education had not been a total waste it seemed. Everything listed had been classified as merely allegation, not a single act could be substantiated. Hence why Wammy's got involved.

As Matt stretched, working out the kinks that were starting to threaten his muscles, his mind ran over the possible ways he could get the damn job done and all the outcomes that may result from the scenarios.

The tricky part was three others already failed, which means Mello would be on guard. He could always do a simple long distance hit with a sniper rifle, but the more than likely lead to retaliation against another organization, as Ross and his underlings would take that as their cue to start a full blown turf war. Although he cared little for the rivalry between groups and the violence that was often times a result of it, he really did not want the headache known as Near on his back.

That also ruled out a car bomb, and a few of the more common methods he employed.

"Fuck" He swore softly. No matter which way he looked at it, killing him out right was just not a viable option.

He paced around the apartment, chain smoking as he tried to think of a solution. When he had first agreed to the assignment he had assumed that it would be quick and easy, like prior jobs had been. Now that he had committed to doing it, the complexity of being against a mind that rivaled his own was frustrating him.

Pretty much any thing he could think of, Mello would have already taken into account. And while he knew he had been sanctioned to operate outside the scope of the law, Matt was pretty sure that there would be hell to pay if too many innocent people were taken out also.

He reached over for his phone, dialing the number from memory.

Speaking before the other person even finished saying hello. "Hey, Stephen have a favor to ask of you."

"I thought you were the one who owed a favor." He laughed.

"Put it on my tab. I need some surveillance work done" he paused to light a cigarette, flipping the television on, keeping the volume low just to add some background noise "along with some insider information on a certain criminal organization that currently is based out of L.A. Members names. Known rivals. Possible disputes with other groups."

Stephen sighed, Matt could faintly make out the sound of paper rustling coming through the phone. "Ok damn it. Shit. Last time, last favor got it?"

"Sure."

"Okay give me a name."

"Dude who runs it goes by the name Rod Ross."

Matt caught an image on the news from the corner of his eye, turning the volume up he sat down, only half listening a Stephen relayed some of the information that he knew. "Hold on a minute, you watching the news?"

Matt watched the segment, relaying the information to Stephen as to what the reporter was informing the public. In the background, a good distance from where they were filming, flames could be seen. Along the bottom of the screen the words "Local Strip Club fire bombed, confirmed casualties." was scrolling.

After relaying the name of the club to him, Stephen confirmed that the establishment was owned by Ross and authorities had long suspected it of being used as a meeting place for various members.


	7. Chapter 7

Mello groaned, yanked from sleep by a heavy handed knocking on the door. He rolled over onto his side, burying his head under a pillow in a vain attempt to block out the irritating sound. After a few minutes, the knocking became more insistent.

"God damn it." He yelled, stomach lurching as he separated himself from the comfort of his bed, and after pulling on a pair a boxers made his way to the door.

"This had better be fucking important." He muttered, sliding the dead bolt and opening the door.

"Morning Mello."

Mello leaned against the door frame. " The fuck you want Snydar."

"Rod wants to see you." Snydar peered over Mello's shoulder, chuckling as he took notice of the blond's girl passed out on the bed, the room littered with half empty beer and liquor bottles,

"Rough night?" he asked, ignoring the glare he received in answer.

"Hurting?" Snydar asked, clucking his tongue as Mello ran a hand through sleep mussed hair, the dark circles under his blood shot eyes and queasy look making him appear like something that was on deaths door.

"A little," he responded, snorting at the knowing smile that was flashed him.

Kal had been sixteen when he had been born, the bastard child of an Eastern European prostitute who had been under employment in the gang. It would be three whole years before the teen would learn that the tow headed prodigy had been fathered by his older brother, Micheal. The elder Snydar boy only owning up to paternity after having taken notice of the toddlers intelligence.

Mello's mother had died of a drug overdose when he was five, his father was gunned down four years later. Unable to provide for him, Kal had allowed him to be taken by the system, always assuming that the boy would be given a chance. When his fourteen year old nephew had shown up on his door step, filthy and starving: having just crossed an ocean and a continent alone he hadn't been able turn him away. Taking him under his wing he watched him quickly climb up through the ranks, although his looks had come solely from his mother he was his fathers child.

"Well get dressed, he's pissed."

Mello swung the door the rest of the way open, motioning for Kal to come in. He took a seat on the arm of the couch, ignoring the half naked girl on the bed as the younger male picked through various discarded items of clothing in search of something to wear.

"Is he pissed at me?" he asked, pulling on well worn ripped black denim jeans over the boxers.

When he had first brought Mello into the fold, Rod had been hesitant. Afraid that the youth would blanch at the reality of the inner workings of the "family", the only thing that had swayed the boss had been the fact that he had been friends with and held high respect for his father, and although barely out of puberty he had not disappointed. Although the connections went deep, and Rod placed a lot of trust in him, that did not mean that the teen didn't incite his anger on occasion.

Kal shook his head, "I don't think so. I think he's pissed about the fucking Albanian, I'll let Rod fill you in himself."

Mello nodded, slipping on a simple black t-shirt that was in need of a wash but would have to do for now. Skye stirred on the bed, pulling the sheet up over her breasts as she turned and faced them.

"Morning sunshine, hope you didn't give my nephew too much trouble last night."

Skye rolled her eyes at the nickname while repressing the urge to laugh as Mello flipped his uncle the middle finger.

"Everything okay?" She asked, stifling a yawn

Mello sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on socks and boots. "Just fucking peachy." he muttered.

She sat up, catching the shirt that Mello tossed her and put it on, semi covered now she stumbled out of bed. Kal caught a glimpse of purple lace and looked away.

"Jesus girl, have some modesty."

Skye waved dismissively, peering at him over her shoulder before bending to pull on a pair of jeans. "Fuck modesty, its over rated anyway."

She down next to Mello, lighting a cigarette, after a few hits she passed the rest to him, sighing as she leaned back a little. "Come back in one piece. I would hate to be at the mercy of the men, defending my honor against their vile advances."

Kal snorted, "Honey, you have about as much honor a mafia whore. You'd spread those thighs for anyone that came up with the cash. Even so, a skank like you is only good for two things, fucking and slapping around. "

He caught Mello's glare, returning an equally icy one as he continued, "But since you are Mello's skank whore you are tolerated and allowed around the big boys. Now be a good girl and try not to irritate me today"

The three of them had a relationship that was often times volatile, the two teens arousing his anger with their carefree attitudes and equally smart mouths. While Mello he could put in his place with a few veiled threats, the girl was another matter. That was Mello's territory. She was his possession, it was his right to smack her, no other could touch her.

Choosing not enter into the argument, Mello laced his boots. After which he leaned over and kissed her. "Think you can do laundry today?"

She gave an exasperated sigh, shaking her head. "yeah."

Mello gave her quick pat on the head and than left, Kal waved goodbye, chuckling as he spoke "I'll come by and collect you later." he closed the door, following Mello down the hall.

"You ever think of making it official?"

"What?"

"You and her?"

Mello shrugged, "Like you said before, she's a whore. Nothing more than someone for me to bust my nut in. Unlike most of the sluts around here, she doesn't choke when my cock is shoved down her throat. That is why I keep her around if you were wondering, not because I actually like her."

The blond paused, turning around slowly, eyes boring into his icily as he spoke, "Oh, ever refer to her as skank again and I'll shoot you myself."

His father's child, through and through he thought as he quickened his pace to keep up with his incorrigible nephew.


	8. Chapter 8

Zakk watched with detached interest the scene before him. Mello was seated on one of the couches, chest stripped bare holding a towel to the side of his face. The white cotton was soaked crimson with blood, rivets of it dripping down his neck. His chest was in worse shape, a nasty gash ran the length from collar bone to just beneath his left nipple. Skye currently was holding an equally blood soaked towel to the area as they waited for the Doctor.

His gaze shifted to corner of the room and corpse that lay there, the back of the head destroyed from a single gun shot, Jose's brain matter and fragments of skull plashed down the wall and puddled on the floor. The crazy Mexican fueled by dope had tried to usurp the teen, obviously it had not gone well.

"Fucking shit."

"Calm the fuck down Mello." She pressed harder on the towel trying to staunch the flow of blood.

"Shut the fuck up bitch." He dropped the towel and pushed her away.

Zakk winced, this being the first chance he had to actually see the full extent of the damage that had been inflected on the blond's face. Jose had managed to slice him from just above the eye brow and down across his cheek to his jaw. Miraculously the eye seemed intact.

"Fine, fucking bleed to death. Fuck if I care."

"Skye, Just shut the fuck up."

"No. Fuck you." She picked up clean towel and tossed it to him.

He reapplied pressure to his face, grimacing as she did the same to other wound, this time with more pressure.

"Fucker, couldn't keep your mouth shut could you?"

The blond ignored her, giving her just a quick glare before closing his uncovered eye and leaning back into the couch.

A bustling on the other side of the door had all three of them on alert, a collective sigh released as Rod and Kal escorted the Doctor in the room and dismissed Zakk.

Doc Travis payed no attention to the corpse, that man was beyond help, and instead focused on the young man bleeding. After examining the wounds he shook his head. "I would prefer that he be stitched up in the hospital, but I'm going to guess that is out of the question. Lay him over there." He said, motioning to a table near by.

Mello cursed up a storm as he was led to the table and helped up. The Doc got the things he needed and joined them.

"This is gonna hurt son, I didn't bring anything strong for pain. Thought I was doing simple stitches in a hand or something." He looked at the three. "Miss, if you could hold his legs. Rod, Kal grab his shoulders please. Now hold him down real tight."

In the end it had taken a total of six people to hold the thrashing teen down as his wounds were cleaned, sutured and dressed. After giving some instructions on wound care, the Doctor left. The underlings went about cleaning up the mess, rolling the body into a tarp for later disposal.

"How you feel?" Rod asked, helping Mello over to one of the chairs.

"Bloody fucking great boss."

Bandages covered a portion of his face and chest, the eye that was uncovered was glassy from the heroin that had been given to him midway through the procedure. The heavy narcotic being the only thing they could scare up.

"Well I need you in one piece, so try to stay out of trouble."

The blond leaned his head back, licking his dry lips before speaking. "Any new information on Vata?"

A month prior one of their establishments had been the target of a fire bomb. While they knew that more than likely the Albanian group had been behind it, they had yet to get a chance for retaliation. The mastermind of the gang having seemed to be untouchable.

"Haven't heard anything for two days, seems as if the dude just dropped off the face of the Earth."

Skye walked over to them, sitting at Mello's feet on the floor, head resting against his thigh. "How about his men? Are they talking yet?" She asked softly.

"No, the one we grabbed yesterday said they don't know where he is. Thought maybe we had been behind it." Kal added.

Mello took a deep breath to focus, the drug causing his mind to haze. "Well if he did go underground, someones gotta know something. Try pressing the family."

Rod nodded, he was about to say something something when his cell rang. Answering, he stood, three sets of eyes on him as he talked.

"Would you please repeat that." He said calmly.

"You're telling me that someone is here, right now with information on Vata?" He looked over at Mello and Kal, a malicious grin forming.

"No no. Frisk him for weapons and escort him to the meeting room, we'll meet you there in a few."

He hung up, cracking his knuckles as he walked back over to them.

"You up for this Mello?"

The teen nodded slowly, standing carefully. He snapped his fingers, holding his hand out towards Skye. Obeying the unspoken command, she handed him a gun that had been tucked in the waist band of her jeans.

"Good, because it seems as though someone brought us a little gift."


	9. Chapter 9

"Hey watch the junk. Didn't know they let fagots in here." Matt winced as he was shoved into the wall, his head throbbing where it had connected with the cracked drywall.

"It be wise if you kept that fucking mouth of yours shut."

Hands traveled the length of his body, seeking out any hidden weapons or recording devices. None of which they would find of course. Satisfied that he was clean, he was roughly turned around to face the two gentlemen who were to be his escort.

He watched as his backpack was emptied out onto the floor. He silently thanked god that he had the forethought to place his precious DS in a protective case, but even still he inwardly cringed at the possible damage that may have befallen it.

The shorter one opened the garbage bag that Matt had brought, his eyes widening as he saw the contents. Face draining of color he quickly closed the bag, the back of his hand covering his mouth as fought the urge to vomit.

"What's wrong, Nick?" The taller one one made a grab for the bag.

"You don't wanna look man. I think he may be crazier than crazy fuck blondie." Nick looked at Matt, spitting on the ground before continuing "Sick fucker, lets go. Boss said he'll give you an audience."

They walked him up a flight of stairs and than down a hall. Matt taking mental notes of the surroundings, possible exits or entry points. As they approached a door, Nick handed him back the bag shaking his head.

"Boss man said he'll be with you soon. You just make your sick self comfortable."

They led him into the room, locking the door from the outside after they left. Matt took a seat, glancing around the room. No windows, and only the one door. If shit went wrong he was fucked. His fingers tightened around the bag as he heard the lock turn and the door swing open. Four people entered the room silently, all eyes focused on Matt.

The one was Kal, if his intelligence was correct, a low ranked member. The girl he couldn't place, a whore? No they wouldn't bring a whore to a meeting like this. She was young, a teen herself. Her hair dyed a shade of purple, which fell just beneath her ears. She was speckled with what looked like dried blood. Beside her was Mello, the fresh bandages causing him to wonder if the blood was his. Behind them was Rod, his hulking frame dwarfing theirs as he stepped up closer to him.

The blond regarded him silently, his fists clenched in rage as he instantly recognized the former Wammy's boy.

"What the fuck is this?" He started to withdraw the gun that was tucked into the back waist band of his pants. "Where the fuck is Ill Ratt, can't believe that fucker brought this shit here." They had been informed that their guest had been escorted by and vouched for by another of the gang, which was the main reason why he had been allowed an audience.

Matt stood, quickly dumping the contents of the bag before them. His eyes locked on the barrel of the gun that was pointed at him.

"Jesus Christ." Kal muttered.

The girl took a few steps closer to Mello, hand covering her mouth in shock and revulsion.

Rod approached him cautiously, bending down to pick the head up by the hair. Mello stared, his gaze going from Matt to the severed head of Vata that Rod was holding for him to see. His finger eased off the trigger a little.

"Now this is an interesting turn of events." He reached over, pulling the girl to stand behind him. Matt briefly wondered if she was his girlfriend.

"I hear you had a little trouble with this dick." Matt nodded to the head. "Hope you don't mind that I did a little cleaning for you guys."

Rod shook his head, speechless as the exchange continued.

"What the fuck do you want Matt?" The blond inched closer.

Matt shrugged, "I was bored, so I figured I would look you up. Figured we could get drunk, get us some cheap pussy" Bingo, the girl had tensed, just like he knew she would.

"Uh huh. Keep talking."The blonds finger went back to the trigger

"You know this kid Mello." Rod glanced between the two of them.

"Yeah, Rod I know him." he sighed, "Did Wammy's send you?"

Matt swallowed, carefully thinking over all possible answers. He knew that he was fucked no matter the answer. Lie, and he would be questioned as to how he found him. Tell the truth and the trigger gets pulled.

"What do you think Mello?"

Mello lowered the gun to his side, circling around Matt as he spoke.

"I think that you are a stupid, crazy mother fucker."

"You want me to interrogate him?" Kal moved closer, keeping himself between Matt and the girl.

"Bitch yours Mello?" Matt took notice of the flash of anger in the girls gray eyes at his words, Mello merely smirked.

"Perhaps. But that doesn't really matter now, does it? So, why are you here?"

"Huh, I always figured you were gay." Matt chuckled trying to hide his unease. "I'm here because I need a job. Hope my resume is up to par." He motioned towards the head.

"Fuck it, interrogate the little prick."


	10. Chapter 10

The interrogation took just a little over an hour. Mello had left strict instructions that while beatings were permissible, the inflicting of permanent damage was not. Zakk did the actual questioning while another underling who's name was Nick dished out the pain.

Matt spat blood on the floor, his ribs aching as he was helped up off the ground and made to stand. He had told them as much as he could without risking his actual life. Yes he had known that there had been prior attempts on the blond's life. Yes he knew there was a contract out on him. No he was not a part of that, and nor did he have inclination to collect on the bounty.

"You gonna really talk now smartass?" Zakk asked

"What ever, but I wanna speak with Mello." Matt spat again,hobbling over to a chair.

The two men exchanged glances. "Stay here." Zakk said gruffly.

Matt resisted the urge to ask him where the fuck he was gonna go and just nodded, wishing for something for the pain from his ribs as he sat down.

The men were gone maybe twenty minutes, returning with Mello and the cute little girl from before. The blond looked like hell, the lack of sleep and pain etched in the side of the face that wasn't covered. The girl didn't look much better, fatigue was starting to settle in with her, fresh bruises were darkening on her upper arms, bruises that were unmistakeably shaped like fingers and very recent. Her gaze was averted downwards, as she trailed behind Mello.

"One million up front, we'll work out arrangements later for being on the rolls.." The blond nonchalantly said.

"What?" He blinked, not understanding.

"The reward is half a million, so I'll give you double. The rest we can work out when we are both up to it."

Matt tilted his head in thought as he ran the numbers and offer through his mind. The offer was generous, and god knows the only loyalty that he had was what was bought.

"I'm not stupid. I know you were hired." Mello rested a hand on his shoulder, "So I figured I would hire you myself, with a pay raise of course."

"If I refuse?"

Mello nodded to the girl, she removed a switchblade, passing the knife to Mello. The blond examined the blade, eyes darkening as he rested the blade against Matt's throat.

"Are you refusing?"

"Nope, but I may hold out accepting until we come to a full agreement."

Mello pulled the knife away, and leaned against a wall, his arms at his side. "Understandable. Now talk, I'm listening."

Matt bit his lip, thinking it over for a few moments.

"I'll take the one million. I also want ten grand a month and a go at sweet tits here."

Mello's eyes flashed in anger, his hand shooting out to grab Skye, who had started to advance towards Matt.

"Fuck you ass.." She was cut off as Mello tightened his grip on her arm, no doubt causing new bruises if the way she cried out was any indication of the strength behind it.

"The whore is private property. Mine to be exact. How about one million, plus three grand a month. If you work out we'll discuss a pay raise."

Matt mulled it over a bit, smiling as he extended a hand. "Deal."

Mello let go of the girl, shoving her aside and shook his hand. "Welcome aboard Mattie. Now what have you got to give me?"

Matt told him everything, leaving nothing out. He brought him up to date on the inner workings of both Wammy's House and Near's department. He touched upon the talent that both had their disposal, and the places where spies had infiltrated, cases that were active and cases that he had knowledge of that were under consideration.

"So, Ill Ratt is working for Near?"

Matt nodded his head, hand reaching into his pocket for his cigarettes. He tossed the pack onto the floor, cursing because they were crushed. "Fuck, that blows. Yeah he's working for Near, fucking freak got spies everywhere."

"Give him a cigarette, Skye."

Matt thanked her, fishing a lighter from his front pocket and lighting it. His eyes travel over the girl, taking notice of her slight curves and the way her tight fitting jeans and purple tank clung to them. "Bitch got a name huh? Stripper name too. Not your real name is it hon?" He winked.

She held his gaze defiantly, "Any one ever tell you that you're a dick?"

"All the time sweety, how about you? The men all tell you what a fine piece of ass you are?"

"Yeah right before their their brains paint the wall." She made another attempt at getting him, Mello easily holding her back with a arm wrapped around her waist.

"Feisty little pussy." Matt clucked his tongue.

Mello's eyes narrowed to slits,"Skye, leave. Wait for us outside." She relaxed slightly, and after a few seconds Mello's hold loosened enough for her to break free. Wordlessly she stormed out the room, slamming the door behind her.

The blond stalked over to him, eyes glinting predatory as he placed the blade of the knife between Matt's legs.

"Talk like that again to her and I'll cut your fucking nuts off. Got it?"

Matt gulped, nodding his head slowly. "Yeah, sure what ever man. Didn't mean to touch a nerve."

"Good, now lets go, you can stay with us tonight until living arrangements can be made."

"I have an apart..."

"You actually think I'm gonna just let you walk the fuck out of here?"


	11. Chapter 11

Four weeks Matt had been in the compound, or as he preferred to call it purgatory. The first few nights he had been forced to crash on the couch in Mello's room while he waited for a room to be cleared and set up for him. The lumpy mattress of the cot a welcome change from the uncomfortable couch. The peeling paint and damp cold concrete floor a godsend when compared to sharing tight living quarters with two other people.

After only the first week restlessness had begun to settle in. Although he was not confined to the room, his movements were restricted, with multiple areas of the compound being off limits. Also leaving the building, he had been informed, was out of the question.

His cell phone had been confiscated as had his lap top, for security reasons he was sure. With access to the outside world limited, he had to wonder if Roger and Near had begun wondering if he had become another causality in this pissing contest.

He passed the time by playing video games and reading, raiding the book shelf in the blonds room in search of stimulation and as a way to relieve some of the boredom. Which was currently what he was doing at this moment, stretched out on his cot reading some trashy horror book to pass the time. For the most part the blond had not been around this past week, he and his girl having chosen to leave the dreariness of the compound in favor of their own, more private apartment.

Matt found himself dozing, the words blurring as he turned pages absently without really reading anymore. He nearly fell off the cot when the door was banged open, Mello standing there with a scowl as he gestured impatiently for him.

"Come on, we're leaving." The bandages and stitches had been removed awhile back, leaving behind a nasty scar on his face that was a stark contrast to the once angelic features. The leather vest he was wearing was partly unzipped, giving Matt a view of the ragged angry red raised flesh that ran along part of his upper torso.

"Where to?" Matt pulled on his boots.

"Got business to conduct, figured you could also use the fresh air." Mello was twirling a set of keys as he waited for Matt.

Matt pushed down the feeling of excitement and the urge to shout hallelujah at the prospect of getting to go outside. While under normal circumstances he craved solitude and staying in doors, when not given the option it is amazing how much one comes to long for the opposite.

They walked down the hall, Mello nodding to a few of the men as they passed by. The whores, Matt took notice of were not acknowledged, the girls quickly moved away, their eyes averted as the two young men walked by. Matt spied the tiny brunette who had serviced him a few nights ago, bitch had an annoying voice, but that mattered little when a cock was in their mouth. Matt winked, a soft chuckle following as she paled, her fingers unconsciously going to the bruise that was on her cheek from where he had smacked her. Bitch had used her hands to finish him off, not her mouth like he had asked her.

As they stepped outside, Matt took a deep breath stretching his arms. "Ahh fresh fucking air."

Mello glanced over at him, brow arched as he laughed. "I always thought you enjoyed being indoors. Back at Wammy's we never could get you leave the dorms for anything other than meals and class."

Matt lit a cigarette and was about to respond when a voice cut across the parking lot. "You two fucking queers gonna hurry?"

Matt followed the voices, his eyes falling onto Skye. The girl was dressed in a short black skirt, purple stockings and a matching purple spaghetti strap tank. The outfit topped off with simple black combat boots. But it wasn't what the purple haired girl had on that had Matt nearly drooling, instead it was what she was leaning against.

The 1971 Chevelle SS was in mint condition, its black paint gleaming in the afternoon sun. He was shocked when as they approached Mello tossed the keys to her.

"You let her drive this?" he sputtered.

"It's her fucking car." Mello gestured to a black Ducati 848 near by. "The bike is mine."

The blond reached into the passenger seat of the Chevelle, retrieving his leather jacket and a helmet. "You'll ride with her, following me."

Matt nodded, his fingers gingerly skimming along the hood of the car as he slowly walked around it, almost afraid to mar it's sleek finish with oily finger prints. Admiring it beauty and condition he whistled. "So what does one gotta do get one of these babies?" Matt asked jokingly.

Skye climbed into the drivers seat, nonchalantly responding. "Let Mello indulge in his anal fantasy."

"He gave you a fucking car just so he could fuck you in the ass?"

Matt peered over her as he got in, unsure if she was joking or not. Mello, zipping up his jacket had heard him, and started laughing. "It was a birthday gift. The car, not the anal sex that is. That was my birthday gift." Mello said grinning, putting his helmet on and lowering the visor climbing onto the bike.

Matt shook his head in disbelief, chuckling softly as he said a little louder than he intended. "Ass man Mello."

he laughed harder as Skye responded. "You have no idea, gave the man ass access once and now he asks for it at least once a week."

They followed behind Mello, Matt enjoying the feel of the leather seats and the purr of the engine.

"So whats this business that he's taking care of?"

"Don't know."

"He didn't tell you?"

"Mello tells people on a need to know basis." Matt could detect in her tone that she was not being truthful, but decided not to push it.

"So a birthday gift huh? Must have been a hell of a birthday. Eighteenth I take it?"

"Nope, sixteenth. Had the car now for almost six months." She glanced side ways, smirking.

Matt turned and looked at her, his expression blank as he looked her over, although his voice betrayed his shock. "Wait, you're only fucking sixteen."

"Yeah, why? Got a problem with that?." Her fingers tapped against the steering wheel as they pulled up behind Mello stopped at a red light.

"No, but what the fuck are doing hanging around with criminals and whores. You should be, I don't know in school, hanging out with friends what ever the fuck it is that sixteen year old girls do. Not being fucked by some thug, being kept like slut."

"You're what nineteen, right? I could say the same about you, patronizing whores, asking to join the gang. Why aren't you in school, planning for your future?"

"You got me there, but you can't tell me that you actually enjoy being treated like his little sex toy."

She shrugged, the light turned green, Mello revving his engine before turning left.

"In the two years I have been with him, I haven't had to worry about others touching me."

"Two years? What the fuck." He yelled. "You were only fucking fourteen fucking years old when you shacked up with him."

"It wasn't by choice. I was given to him." She was speaking through clenched teeth, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel.

"Like as a fucking gift? That's fucking sick man. And you went along with this?" He said, hints of shock and disgust creeping into his tone. He watched her as she took a few deep breaths to remain calm, the very idea that at a young age she had been given away like a material possession that was no longer needed leaving a nasty taste in his mouth.

"I wasn't a gift okay. I was fucking payment you cocksucker. If you wanna know, my prick of a pimp owed Mello a large sum of money for some drugs. Figured Mello would lay off of him he had pussy to trade. Trust me, my life may not be perfect, but I would rather be fucked by him on a regular basis than be touched by the filthy stinking assholes who only wanted me because they can't dick daddies little fucking girl. Now drop it." She yelled the last part, staring straight ahead as she tried to calm herself.

Matt put his hands up in defeat, apologizing halfheartedly. "Sorry. So what happened after the trade? I mean to your former owner?"

She sighed. "You should know that pussy is a poor substitute for cash in Mello's line of work. Even good pussy."

"One last question, does he force..."

She cut him off quickly, "No. I am a willing participant in everything."

He slumped back in his seat. Although he still had unanswered questions, he remained silent. His mind replayed the information he did have, more questions forming as drove in silence.

They pulled into the parking lot of a club. The letters on the garish neon sign told him the establishment was a sleazy strip club. The kind of place where hideously dolled up tramps danced to feed their habits and lonely men went in hopes of procuring one of the girls for a little off the books action in back rooms.

Mello hopped off his bike, leaving the jacket on but placing his helmet on the seat before he jogged over to where they had parked. Matt's eyes widened as Skye, leaning over to open the glove compartment, retrieved a Beretta 92FS that had the addition of a suppressor.

"The other still in the trunk?"

"Should be." She muttered. She nearly hit Mello with the door as she got out, handing the keys to him so he could retrieve the other gun.

"Ty w paradku?" Mello's gaze flitted between the two of them as he asked her if she was okay, the anger in her eyes giving him pause . She shook her head slowly, answering softly, telling him to drop it. "Ne. Pakinqce mjane w spakoi."

He quirked a brow at her brush off, "We'll talk later, okay?" Not waiting for an answer he walked around to the back of the car. Matt sank down in his seat a little as he caught the look of fury in the blonds gaze directed him. He had heard the exchange, and although he could not understand what had been spoken, instinct told him that it wasn't good.

Mello popped the trunk, and after a few minutes he walked to the passenger side, opening the door for Matt. As Matt got out, stretching the kinks out of his legs he stared down at the firearm that was being placed his hand.

"Here, tuck this in your pants will you." Matt complied, not questioning the other young man. He watched as the blond handed a leather jacket to Skye, which after she put it on, tucked the gun she had into the waist band of the back of her skirt.

Matt broke his silence, coughing nervously as he spoke. "Protection or needed?" He asked in reference to the guns.

"Needed." Mello said curtly. "Matt you come with me. Skye, you stay here and take care of anyone who may present a problem." She nodded, leaning against the hood of the car as she watched them head toward the entrance.

When they were out of earshot from her, Matt spoke. "Russian?"

"Perhaps if you had studied harder you would know the answer."

Matt ignored the jab at his past academic failures as they entered the establishment. Taking a deep breath as an emotional numbness settled in him, a professional trait that allowed the red head to be good at his former job.

The reason why Mello would choose to do a job in daylight hours quickly became apparent as he surveyed the near emptiness of the club. It was still too early for the place to be filled. A single cracked out looking girl clumsily gyrated on stage, her audience being three men who looked as if they had stepped from one of those Faces of Meth public service announcements.

Mello cleared his throat, his voice taking on an icy edge that even made Matt shiver. "Okay every one, bars closed."

The men turned to stare at the two teens, at first ignoring the hint, but quickly scrambling to leave as they caught sight of the look of pure malice which graced the blonds features. Mello reached out, grabbing the half naked who had been dancing by the hair as she tried to move him.

"Gino around?" His voice dripped venom as he spoke. She nodded a yes, pointing to an area that Matt guessed were the back room. Mello pushed her away violently, the girls body connecting with a table as she stumbled to catch her balance.

"Come on." He pulled out a gun from the inside of jacket, his eyes telling Matt to do the same as they walked to where the stripper had gestured.

Matt steeled himself, taking a deep breath to remain collected as Mello kicked open the door. The blond fired a single shot. A girl that Matt guessed was another stripper slumped to the ground, her face bloody from where the hollow tip had struck her. Gino was scrambling to pull his pants up, blood speckling his face and chest.

"Oh shit. Oh shit. Please don't shoot me." He pleaded. "I have Rods fucking money."

"I'm sure you do." Mello said, stepped over the lifeless body of the girl. Pushing the barrel of the gun under the greasy mans chin. "Where?"

Sweat was dripping off the man, the acrid smell of urine reaching Matt's nose as the blubbering slob pissed himself in fear. "It's in the office. Oh god please. In the desk."

Mello patted him on the cheek and left, instructing Matt to keep on the fucker until he returned. A few minutes later he returned, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. "Come on Matt."

Matt lowered his gun, a look of relief on Gino's face as he turned to leave. The blond paused, turning slowly to face Gino as he spoke. "Oh, I almost forgot. Matt shoot him." Mello's gaze flickered to Matt a smile forming as the red head turned , and taking aim fired a single shot. Gino fell to the ground, a neat hole in his forehead, blood and brains leaking out from the back of his head from the exit wound.

Mello then instructed Matt to take the mans wallet and clean out the till on the bar of any cash while he stepped back outside for a moment. He returned as just as Matt was emptying the last of the cash from the till, the bills shoved into the pockets of Matt's jeans. The red head hung back, watching as Mello went around the place, placing what looked like blocks of C 4.

"You ready Matt?"

"Yeah."

They left, Mello pulling a remote detonator from the inner pocket of his leather once they were in the parking lot. Skye was already in the driver seat, engine running as they approached calmly. Matt spied the duffel bag on the back seat as he climbed into the passenger seat.

"I'll meet you two back at headquarters." Mello slipped the helmet on, climbing onto his bike, waving as they left.

Two blocks from the club the distinct sound of explosion startled Matt. Looking in the rear view mirror he could see smoke rising above the surrounding buildings. He licked his lips nervously, almost afraid to know the answer to the question.

"Where were the explosives stashed?"

"In the trunk."

Crazy mother fucker, Matt thought. As he leaned his head back he thought about Gino, the expression of terror that had been frozen on the guys face as he had pulled the trigger.


	12. Chapter 12

Matt looked up from where he was sitting on the couch, his eyes going to the bottles the blond was removing from his bag and setting onto the table next to the pizza box that Skye had set down. "Vodka?"

Mello nodded, "And SoCo, " catching Matt's confused look "Southern Comfort." He tossed down a baggie that was filled with white powder, "And some other shit." He mumbled.

"Coke?"

"Yeah, why that a problem?" Mello asked, brushing blond fringe from his face as he looked over at Matt.

"Nope. No problem."

Skye joined them, taking a place on the floor as she grabbed a bottle, taking a long drink of the clear liquid straight before handing the bottle to Matt. Mello was making himself busy cutting lines, pausing only to take a drink himself as the bottle was passed to him.

"It's a tradition of sorts," her finger brushed through blond hair, holding it back as Mello bent forward and snorted a line, "get trashed and fuck each other to oblivion."

Matt grabbed a piece of pizza as he spoke."You maybe cute, but your dick is coming no where near my ass Mello."

"Keep telling yourself that Matt." He winked, then laughed at the look of shock that crossed the red heads features. "If you want laid, I can have a girl sent up. I'll even pay. A little treat for a job well done."

Matt thought it over, "The pretty little brunette that I saw with Rod yesterday would be nice. Bitch had a nice rack and body that was built for fucking."

"Beth?" Mello laughed. "Pretty good lay, very vocal. Not great with blow jobs though."

"And Rod's niece." Skye added.

"You fucked the bosses niece?" Matt choked on a piece of pizza.

"Yep, fucked her in the back seat of her daddies car. Rod was fucking pissed for weeks, didn't tell his brother thankfully." Mello smiled at the memory.

"He found out?" he washed a bite of pizza down with a swig of vodka, his mind reeling from the information. This had not been in his file, actually his file had painted him in a manner that had led Matt to believe that the blond was either asexual or closeted.

"He caught us. About damn near castrated me too."

Skye nudged Mello's knee playfully, "Settled on him getting snipped instead."

Mello handed her the straw, rubbing her back as she took her turn with the coke. "Benefited me of course. Rod demanded it to keep me from getting killed by an angry father, instead it just made me much more attractive to their daughters."

Skye wiped her nose, snickering. "Fuck Mello and no worries about little surprise bastards nine months later."

"Ahh, so that's why ya fuck him."

"Big cock that stuffs me full." She leaned against Mello, one of her hands slipping to his crotch to cup him."

"You hurt me, I always thought it was my gentlemanly charm."

Matt sat back, watching them. He himself only indulging in a little when the straw was passed to him, preferring to indulge in alcohol. Explaining that coke made him too on edge. As the night wore on the the floor became littered with liquor and beer bottles, and the coke long gone was replaced by weed as the three of them celebrated Matt's first hit for the gang.

Matt watched passively, mind and body numbed by the alcohol and drugs as Mello drunkenly talked Skye into performing a lap dance. She gave into his request, ignoring the redheads presence as she straddled the blonds lap, grinding against him, body moving to the beat of the music that Mello had flipped on for this.

He belatedly wished he had taken the blond up on the offer of a whore as he watched Mello slip his hands up under her skirt, his lips tasted the skin of her neck. As his eyes slid closed, the last image Matt was treated to before he lost consciousness was Mello sliding off her tank top, head bent to lick her bared breasts as her fingers worked on the blonds belt.

XxXxX

He was startled awake the next afternoon by a slap to his face.

"You alive?" Through slitted eyes he could just make out the image of Mello, sitting on the floor next to him as the blond pulled on socks.

Matt groaned, arm cover his face as the full force of his hangover hit him. His mouth was dry, tongue tripping over the words as he spoke "What time is it?"

"Five." Mello stood up, lending a hand to Matt as he tried to sit up. "PM, not AM. Didn't know you were such a light weight." He added chuckling.

"Tis not," Matt responded, settling back against the couch as his eyes searched for much needed nicotine. He mumbled a thanks as Mello handed him a cigarette. His mind cleared a little as the nicotine flooded his system, he looked around the room snorting when his eyes fell onto Skye, still passed out on the bed.

"You make fun of me, look at her."

Grabbing his boots, Mello winked. "She'll be out of it for awhile, got rode kind of hard last night."

Matt crinkled his nose in mock disgust, flicking ashes in his direction. "I don't need to know about your adventures in perversion with underage pussy, especially if said acts were performed while I was passed out a few feet from you and missed the show."

Mello roared with laughter, tossing Matt his boots to put on. "Maybe next time. Come on, Rod wants to talk with you. Seems as if you made an impression."

Matt slipped his feet into them, leaving them unlaced since he didn't trust his fingers to work. "Don't know why, all I did was shoot a man. Simple job if you ask me."

"I'll let him explain everything."

XxXxX

As they entered the room. Rod Ross sat back on the couch, hand resting behind his head as he acknowledged them with a curt nod.

"Please, sit down. Mello here tells me that you did very good last night."

Matt took a seat close to the door, old habits die hard and when you often find yourself in situations where a hasty exit is needed to tend to stick close to windows and doors.

"I only did as I was instructed." Matt lit a cigarette, blowing smoke in the direction of where Mello was perched on the edge of a table.

Rod nodded, Matt noticing how the older mans eyes kept looking him over, sizing him up. He felt his heart rate increase a little under the intense scrutiny. He had been in the company of dangerous men before, but this was different. None of the men he had encountered before had someone with Mello's intellect advising them.

"So you have taken a life before then?" Rod leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees as he stared at him.

Matt nodded slowly. "A few times."

"Good, good. So you are no stranger to the job. Always a gun?"

Matt shrugged, exhaling smoke "Guns, car bombs, poison, even garotted a man."

Mello and Rod shared a quick glance, then the blond approaching Matt slowly as he spoke.

"We have another job for you. A little rat that needs exterminated. Two men in as many days is tough on anyone. Makes the blood on your hands that much more vivid." Mello slipped an arm over his shoulder leaning close to ear. "Also makes it rougher when the job can't be done quickly, when information needs to be exchanged, even tortured from them."

Matt brushed the blonds arm off him, "Are you doubting my ability to remain loyal to our deal?"

"Questioning might be a better description. I wonder if your bought loyalty can stand strong in the face of seeing a former associate writhe in agony as you kill them."


	13. Chapter 13

Matt's fingers clenched around the leather covered handle of the KA-BAR. The weight of it feeling far heavier than it should have given its size. His green eyes traveled to where Shawn Dunleavy also known as Ill Ratt was bound to a chair. The mans eyes were large as saucers, seeming to silently beg him as stalked towards him. Dried blood caked the side of his face, the swollen flesh underneath livid with bruises from where he had been beaten.

"No one else then? Just you three?" With the tip of the blade, Matt traced along Shawn's jaw.

"Ye..yes. No one else."

Matt's eyes traveled to where a wooden baseball bat had been carelessly tossed into a corner. Mello had earlier commanded him to use it when they had been met with obstinate silence as their inquiry had turned more towards Near and if there were any other people that the freak had working for him. In the end, after one leg was shattered and understanding that the other was next he had started talked.

Mello leaning against a wall took a bite of chocolate, holding the bitten off piece between his teeth. "Who's your handler?"

"Guy named Carter. Anthony Carter."

"And Matt's handler? Who is it?"

Matt spun around. The blond was staring directly at him, his normally cold blue eyes sparkling with amusement at the redheads look of disbelief.

"What? Did you honestly think that I wouldn't want to know Matt?"

"You could have just asked me." He spat.

"And risk you lying? I don't think so."

Mello pushed off the wall with his foot, slowly stalking over to where Matt was, the heavy sound of the hard rubber soles of his boots echoing in the room. He slipped an arm over Matt's shoulder but remained focused on their captive as he spoke.

"The name of his handler Shawn. I know you know it. I can see in the way you keep looking down."

Shawn flashed Matt an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry Matt," and took a deep breath, "Halle Bullook."

Mello's voice broke the thick silence that followed the revelation "Try to aim for between the ribs, less chance of breaking the blade."

"I know how to fucking stab someone." He snapped.

He could feel the cold stare of Mello as he looked down at the knife, indecision flaring in him. If he didn't do this he had no doubt that Mello would kill him, instinctively he knew the blond already had his gun out and aimed at the back of Matt's head. If he did go through with this, there would be no turning back. Killing a dealer and a pimp was one thing, cold blooded offing an undercover agent was another.

Matt took a deep breath, steeling his nerves as he pressed the sharp edge of the blade against Shawn's throat. He gripped his hair, bending his head back as he jerked his hand, the blade slicing along his throat. He knew the job was complete as blood gushed from a nicked carotid artery. The blood not so much as flowing as coming out in pulsing spurts with every heart beat, spraying a good sized area.

Matt cursed as he jumped back, some of the blood having sprayed up on his face and chest. "Shit."

Shawn struggled in his seat, his body convulsing as blood ran down his neck and chest as well as spurting from the side of his neck from the gash. Matt wiped some of the blood off his face as he shuddered, the gurgling sound coming from Shawn causing his stomach to threaten to empty its contents.

"That's why I said stab him you idiot. Fuck, you couldn't have just severed the damn artery?"

Mello placed a hand between his shoulder blades, guiding him out of the room,reaching down to grab the bat as they left. Matt remained silent as as they went outside to the car, Mello motioning for the two underlings that had brought Shawn here.

Mello tapped the bat on the side of his boot "Ian, I heard some interesting things in there." Before the man could respond, Mello lifted the bat and swung, the wood splintering as it connected with the side of Ian's head with a sickening crack. Ian fell to the ground, the side of his head bloodied and misshapen. As the man lie there dying, Mello delivered a few more blows with the bat until all that was left above the mans shoulders was a mess of blood, shattered bone and brain matter, he only stopped when the bat finally broke.

"What the hell Mello." The other underling, asked stepping back.

Mello had a crazed look in his eyes as he dropped the broken and gore covered bat. Blood speckled his arms and face, no doubt his clothes too if the wet patches on the black were any indication of it presence."No witnesses, Rod said." pulling the gun from the front of his pants he fired a single round into John's face.

Matt stood there hyperventilating, his heart racing as Mello stepped over Ian's body, lighting a cigarette as he bent down to retrieve something from the dead mans pocket. Matt watched as the blond flipped open the cell phone and made a call. "Job went well. Yeah we got the info. Ya might want to have a one on one with Seth. Would you like for us to pick him up on our way back?" A few seconds later Mello ended the call and looked up at Matt, snorting as he took notice of the shock he seemed to be in.

"A little different when it's close quarters, huh? I got some clothes in the trunk that might fit you, can't have you looking like you took part in a blood bath." Mello went around to the trunk of the car and retrieved a duffel bag, tossing it and a black garbage at Matt's feet.

"Jesus Christ Mello. What the fuck man."

"Put your clothes in there, we'll dump them somewhere on the way home."

Matt stripped out his clothes, using a towel that was in the bag to clean off some of the blood that was on his face and arms. He pushed aside his feelings of unease caused by the violent beating, professionalism masking his own inner fear that Mello may turn on him next. "Shawn fingered two people, Ian and Seth. Are we going to handle Seth?"

"No, I'll let Rod handle that one. Matt, I'm going to need you contact her soon. "

"Who?" He tossed the towel into the garbage bag along with his clothes, and took the jeans that Mello had in his hand.

"Your handler, Halle."

Matt paused a few seconds. As he looked over at him that uneasiness returned. He tried to read the blond but Mello had a blank expression. Even eyes were empty of emotion. "Why? It's not like she would have any more information that would be of use."

"No, but she could still be of use."

"How do you figure?" He zipped up the jeans, and turned to face him.

"That Matt, is really none of your concern right now. Just leave shit up to me."

"She's gonna fucking know I was fucking bought off." He slipped a shirt over his head, and leaned against the passenger side of the door. Mello handing him a cigarette winked.

"How? The only people that know what just happened is Rod, me and you. They doesn't count, dead men can't talk." He motioned to the corpses. "You're in the clear Matty, besides you can always just say it was me. I seemed to get blamed for everything."

Matt lit up a cigarette, inhaling deeply and waiting for the nicotine's calming effects to take hold. He waited by the car as Mello made another quick phone call, this time on his own cell.


End file.
